


Intervention

by zsomeone



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-14
Updated: 2009-07-14
Packaged: 2018-03-16 16:54:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3495857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zsomeone/pseuds/zsomeone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post season 2, random idea.<br/>The band holds an intervention for Toki’s drinking problem, but they kinda suck at it.<br/>Warnings: Not caring, and violence against clowns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intervention

If Toki had spent more time sober, he might have noticed a lot more whispering and grumbling than usual going on. But it was just so _boring_ in the secret underground bunker of Mordhaus, there was really nothing else to do. The video games had been damaged by the fire, and the hot tub was still full of soot. There was a TV, so Nathan was happy. There were spare instruments, so Skwisgaar was happy. There was a large amount of undamaged surfaces to mutilate, so Murderface was happy. And there was the usual stash of booze, so Pickles was happy. Toki wasn’t happy, he was bored. And usually very drunk.

Charles had everything organized. His surprise guests were safely hidden away, and the boys had all written their letters. Or at least he really hoped that they had. Now he just had to find Toki, and get him to join them.   
_Finally_ he found him, under the table. He was drinking already. Fortunately Charles was used to oddness, and correctly deduced that someone had said something along the lines of that Toki couldn’t drink them under the table. Pulling out a chair, Charles squatted down to negotiate.

Toki turned his head, clearly unhappy about this intrusion. There was a large cup of something that smelled like straight alcohol beside him, already half empty. He didn’t look... all that cooperative. Charles considered, and decided to start with a reliable old standby. “Toki, the boys are going out for ice cream and hookers, would you like to join them?”  
Toki shook his head, and took another big sip.   
Charles pondered the absurdity of squatting on the floor trying to talk a grown man out from his table-fort. “Fine, then I need you to sign some things, and no, it really can’t wait. So come on, chop-chop.”

Grumbling unhappily, Toki crawled out, swaying a little as he stood up. Charles led the way, heading for the room where everyone was assembled and waiting. Maybe he shouldn’t have included that damn clown, but too late now. If Nathan or Murderface hadn’t killed him yet, that is.   
No, unfortunately they hadn’t. “Well Twinkletits, it’s your show.” Charles stepped back against the door, blocking the exit.  
Twinkletits would have tented his fingers in a thoughtful manner, if he still had fingers. Lacking this, he (barely) managed to tap his pen. “Hi Toki, we’re all here because we _care_ about you. Your friends have all written you a letter about how they feel, so let’s hear them. Now who wants to go first?”

“I do c-c-c-cocaine!”  
“Very well Leonard, you may go first. Read Toki your letter.”  
Rockso held up a sheet of paper. “I drew you a ballooon! K-k-k-yeah, baby! I do c-c-c-cocaine! LOTS of c-c-cocaine! I’m the rock n roll cloooown!”  
Nathan finally punched him in the face, knocking him out. Charles motioned for some klokateers to remove him. Well, this wasn’t exactly a shining start.  
Twinkletits pointed to Nathan, or what passed as pointing anyway. “Nathan, read yours, tell him how you feel.”

“Um, okay. Toki, I uh, don’t care about you because caring’s not metal. But you’re getting too sloppy to play, and like, you should probably change that. Or something. There, that’s all I wrote. Can I go now?”   
“No Nathan, you can’t go. We’re all here to show Toki some support.”  
“This like, SUCKS! I need a beer!”  
Pickles grinned and reached under the couch, pulling out a large bottle of whiskey. “Dude, I gat it covered.”  
Nathan reached for it. “Pickles, you’re a lifesaver!”

Charles felt like beating his head against the wall. Or even better, _their_ heads. But he stayed silent, this was Twinkletits’s show, he was the professional.   
Over the therapist’s protests, the passed the bottle around, all drinking. Yes, even Toki.  
Twinkletits attempted to regain order. “Guys! Stop drinking, we’re here to help Toki! Murderface, read yours.” They all ignored him, passing the bottle around again. “It’s 10:30 in the morning, nobody needs to be drinking yet! Murderface, READ!”  
“PISSH OFF!” He flipped him off and drank some more.

Twinkletits grabbed the bottle away, fuming. “No! We have to finish this first! Pickles, read yours!”  
“Dude, I can’t do thet, ‘cause I gat nothin’. I _rally_ tried ta think of sahmthin’, but it’s jest no good. An' I drink more’n he does, so I rally can’t complain.”  
All five of them were glaring at him menacingly as he held the bottle out of their reach, trying to regain control. “Skwisgaar! Read Toki your letter!”  
“Fines den, I will. Toki, you ams dildos. You _buys_ dildos. You’s never going to be as goods as me.”  
Skwisgaar tossed the paper aside, and they all closed in on Twinkletits.  
Charles watched from his place by the door. This wasn’t going very well, but then, he hadn’t really expected it to.

They cornered the therapist, demanding the return of their alcohol. Outnumbered and intimidated, he finally handed it over.   
Nathan held it up triumphantly. “Let’s take this to the hot tub!”  
“That’sh no good, the hot tub’sh sthill messhed up.”  
“Okays, den lets go to de bath tubs.”  
All in agreement, they set off, heading toward the bathrooms.  
Charles watched them go. They might suck at showing support, but they did stick together. But surely they weren’t going to all try to fit into a bath tub? He just had to go and see.

Yes they were, and oh yes they did.  
Five guys and a gallon of whiskey, crammed in the tub with their knees jammed up under their chins, arms everywhere. Surrounded by the few gallons of hot water they’d barely managed to fit in there with them.  
Stepping over the assorted clothes scattered on the floor, he made his way back out. Charles made a note to get the hot tub up and running as soon as possible, if only to avoid ever seeing that again.

Still, too bad there wasn’t room for one more.


End file.
